


valentine Bambi eyes

by motherofrevels



Series: valentine Bambi eyes (negative) [1]
Category: Onward (2020)
Genre: Angst, Blowjobs, Consensual Underage Sex, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Facials, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Incest, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Oral, Sibling Incest, Smut, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:06:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23542066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/motherofrevels/pseuds/motherofrevels
Summary: Ian is struggling to deal with his developing feelings for his older brother, when Barley steps in to help.
Relationships: Barley Lightfoot/Ian Lightfoot
Series: valentine Bambi eyes (negative) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1731595
Comments: 24
Kudos: 137





	valentine Bambi eyes

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction containing explicit content involving a minor engaging in sexual conduct with their sibling. If this bothers you, please feel free to check out some of the other amazing works of fiction by other, far more talented writers here on Archive of our Own. Thank-you. <3

Seated at the dining room table, chocolate eyes watched toughened fingers as they greedily shoveled tonight's meal into a wide—usually boastful—mouth. The stubble lining said mouth was beginning to border on unruly. A byproduct of impatience, absentmindedness, and questionable hygiene.

In a way, Ian noted, these traits applied to his brother, Barley, in nearly every aspect of his life. Indeed, his older sibling epitomized his exact opposite in many ways. From body to mind, they were stark in contrast. And it was that contrast that made his elder so charming—

" _Something on my_ _face,_ little bro?" the sturdier man inquired, rubbing at his bristled jaw with the back of his hand.

Ian's cheeks immediately rouged, eyes widening briefly as he dropped them back to his (mostly untouched) plate of food. He hadn't realized he'd been _staring_ , lost in thought as he ever was.

"N- _No_. I was just _thinking_ ," he admitted. "We haven't had the chance to hang out as much, lately . . . I- _I'm sorry_ about that."

Barley seemed taken aback by this, dense brows furrowing as his expression softened. Luminous amber eyes sought his younger sibling's gaze in an attempt to gauge his emotions, but received only a nervous glance in return. Then, a look of brightness lit his ruggedly handsome features; puffing his chest (nearly smacking his plate) as he gestured dramatically.

" _Nay_ , Sir Iandore!" Barley began in his most chivalrous voice. "Every _great mage_ is born of _trial_ and _study_!"

The warm baritone of his drama filled the space between them at the table, Ian's slumped posture straightening out a bit (by way of a flinch) from the sheer volume of his older brother's voice. He offered him a smile—the warmest he could manage at the time—but his expression still held a slight chill.

The older Lightfoot took note of this; raised brows and goofy expression giving way to an air of warmth and concern.

" _Hey_ , buddy," he reached out to give Ian's slender shoulder a reassuring squeeze, the sheer mass of his balmy hand easily wrapping from collar-bone to upper-back. "It's alright . . . Do you wanna _talk_ about it?"

Barley knew Ian had been busy with his finals. He couldn't hold any perceived distance against him. In truth, he admired his younger brother's focus and discipline. He himself had never been all that scholastically inclined. If it wasn't world history, most subjects simply didn't pique his interest. He never found himself to be the caliber of student that Ian was. The junior Lightfoot had always been meticulous about his grades.

About as meticulous as he was about _everything else_ , in fact.

" _No_ ," Ian nearly squeaked at Barley's touch, "I-It's alright . . ." He attempted to force himself to relax.

It was a well-known fact that Iandore was frightened of nearly everything. This was both his biggest insecurity—and surprisingly—his clearest personal advantage. Always airing on the side of caution, he often found himself safeguarded by his instincts. And that was a _comfort_ to him, in a strange way.

But nothing frightened him quite the way his older brother did.

Barley was truly a force to be reckoned with. A hurricane of sunshine, exuberance, and strength; both emotional and physical. Donning a chaotic balance between a charismatic Barbarian, and a delusional fantasist; Barley was both his support and his protector. It had always been this way, and Ian was hopeful that their bond would always remain.

However, the emotions bubbling just beneath the surface of his brotherly adoration were beginning to give way to something . . . _more_. And that undeniable truth, _also_ scared him.

The younger boy shrugged off his elder's calloused hand, a shade of rose deepening his pastel complexion. Bronze eyes caught golden at last, soft lips giving way to a shy smile.

"You need to take a _shower_ , man," Ian stated, voice held as steady as he could manage.

The truth was, Barley generally carried at least a slight musk, even when clean. And as much as Ian hated to admit it, he actually found the scent _appealing_. It was something _so_ unmistakably Barley; spicy, warm, solid and masculine. Many of the very traits that made up his elder sibling's overall personality, could also be used to describe his scent. And lately, Ian found himself longing for it in a way he wasn't entirely comfortable with.

" _Do I?_ " Barley wondered aloud, raising an arm and taking a cursory sniff. " _Oh_ , yeah," he chuckled, a sheepish expression crossing his features before he stood; strong legs carrying him from the dining room to the kitchen to carelessly toss his empty plate into the sink. "I could go for a shower, I suppose," he grinned as he re-entered the dining room, rolling his eyes once he was certain he'd caught Ian's notice. "You've _barely touched_ your food there, baby bro."

Ian's attention fell back to his plate, brows furrowing in realization.

" _Oh_ , yeah," he parroted back at his brother. "I-I had a big lunch," he lied, not wanting to concern Barley with the fact that his appetite hadn't been what it used to be, as of late. He'd _never_ eaten _much_ , his svelte frame a testament to both _this_ fact, and his enviable metabolism.

But lately, he had a lot on his mind.

Barley gave a lengthy stretch, followed by a yawn. The mass of him seemed to double momentarily as the hem of his well-worn black t-shirt lifted briefly to expose a few pale inches of his hair-dusted belly. Ian's complexion was kissed by heat once again as he struggled against his greater instincts to stare and appreciate.

_Sure_ , Ian had seen his brother shirtless. Truthfully, he'd seen his brother in _all manner_ of undress. But it had been _years_. After receiving separate bedrooms as children, the two of them rarely saw each other in anything less than loungewear. This, admittedly, was mostly due to Ian's modesty; a virtue of which Barley knew very little. But lately, these little whispers of what laid beneath his big brother's daily attire came as a welcome surprise, as much as the thought humiliated him.

It was at this moment that their mother chose to come down from her room, dressed in something Iandore noted to be new.

" _Okay, boys!_ I'm heading out to meet Corey for ladies' night! I hope you both enjoyed your dinner," she chirped, her warm-brown eyes scanning the mostly untouched plate before her youngest. She mused momentarily on the idea of inquiring about this, brows knit together and teeth scraping her lower lip. _'Another time,'_ she thought, offering the willowy teen a sympathetic smile. It was then that her attention turned to her _eldest_ son, sympathy giving way to humor. "And _you_ need a _shower_ , young man! I _know_ you’re trying to save water, but I can smell you from _here_!”

It wasn't a matter of opinion.

" _I know, I know!_ I'm _on_ it!" Barley announced, gesturing wide as his mother approached to offer him a quick hug and kiss on his stubbled cheek. She then rounded the dining room table to grant Ian the same.

Her younger son's body felt so frail against her own. For his height, Iandore hadn't yet filled out quite like herself or his father. _Let alone_ his brother. She let her kiss linger slightly longer against Ian's soft curls than it had on Barley's cheek; an offering of wordless reassurance. _'He would let me know if something was_ really _bothering him,_ right _?'_ she wondered, pulling away once she received a halfhearted hug in return.

" _Love you, boys!_ Call _me_ , Colt, or Corey if you need _anything_! I'll see you both tonight _if_ you're still awake," she called, making her way toward the door. "But don't stay up _too_ late!"

And with that, she was gone. The sound of the door being locked from the outside was Barley's cue for a soft chuckle.

"She's been really _happy_ , lately," he mused, smiling softly to himself. He watched his younger brother stand to carefully dispose of his meal, before closing the space between himself and the staircase.

"I'm happy she made a _friend_ ," Ian agreed, the idea bringing a smile to his lips as well.

"A _totally epic_ friend!" Barley added cheerfully, taking to the stairs behind his baby brother, hazel eyes admiring the slight sway of Ian's thin hips as he climbed. He pursed his lips, gaze darting up to inspect rather or not his younger sibling had noticed his gaze upon him; a mix of both relief and disappointment stirred within him when he found the answer to be _'no'_. "Well, I guess I'll be grabbing that _shower_."

Ian's gaze followed his sibling's sturdy frame as the older man made his way into their upstairs bathroom and closed himself in. Fuchsia heat rushed to his sun-flecked cheeks once again, as his mind played with the image of Barley shedding his clothes; revealing a broad chest, powerful arms, and a sturdy core.

His stomach sank as reality caught up with him.

_'He's your brother,'_ he scolded himself. _'What is_ wrong _with you?'_ With this, full brows furrowed in distaste. Chocolate-hued eyes steadied on their host's bedroom door as he approached; casting a final glance toward the bathroom door before entering. _'I've got to study,'_ his mind chided, velveteen lips eliciting a sigh as he closed himself in, flinging himself onto his bed (rather uncharacteristically).

He didn't want to do _anything_. He just wanted to lie there forever, eventually succumbing to a peaceful sleep. And for what seemed to him like only a few short moments, he did just that; baby-doll eyes closing slowly as he coerced his inner musings to give way to darkness, breathing slowed as he embraced a sense of calm—

A soft knocking at his door cut through the silence.

" _Hey,_ " Barley called, " _still awake in there?_ "

At this, Ian snapped upright, heart racing momentarily as he steadied his eyes on the door.

" _Uhm_ ," he squeaked, " _yeah_." He quickly shifted into a seated position, lean legs hanging over the edge of his bed—hands on his knees.

"May I _enter_?" his older brother called, cheerful voice taking on a knightly baritone.

" _Uhm_ ," Ian trailed off, eyes darting around as though there were anything he might need to conceal from view. " _Sure_ ," he agreed, watching as the door swung open to reveal his elder brother; still slightly damp, hair mussed, clad only a pair of (presumably clean) boxers.

In that instant, Iandore wished for a swift and merciful death. Red hot heat flooded his ears, face, neck, and groin as he took in the full sight of his sibling’s nearly unclothed body.

It was every bit of what he imagined it might be. Broad shoulders supported strong arms, that hung casually on either side of a barrel chest, which rested atop a thick core; traces of dense muscle visible beneath a layer of bulk. A dusting of azure hair—currently slicked down with dampness—decorated the breadth of Barley's chest, trailed down across his belly, and disappeared into his boxers.

Ian felt the full force of his heartbeat in his throat and head, blood pressure escalating as he gnawed his lower lip.

" _Hey_ ," Barley began, not waiting to be invited to take a seat next to the younger Lightfoot. He waited for Ian's eyes to meet his own before continuing, but only received another nervous glance. "Look . . . I _know_ you've got a lot on your plate lately, but I want you to know I'm _here_ for you," he assured, voice calm and steady. "I _know_ you can do it, little bro. You've been through _a lot worse_ than some _finals_."

With this, he wrapped a solid arm—free of cuffs, bracelets, or casts—around his brother's narrow frame. He noticed the slighter boy go rigid beneath his embrace, but pressed on.

"Remember your first big merge? Remember how _scared_ you were?" he offered a small laugh, "Remember the _curse?!_ Whatever's going on, it can't be worse than _that_ . . . Can it?"

Ian's mind was screaming. Every inch of him felt icy cold and burning hot in unison. He shifted his weight in a desperate attempt to avoid his awakening boyhood from being seen through his skinny jeans.

"N- _No_ ," he stammered, brows pinched in such a way that they appeared to form a peak at the center of his forehead. "B-But can we like, talk about this _later_? I-I _really_ have to study—"

" _Woah_ ," his elder cut him off, " _look_ at me." Warm, toughened fingers grasped the slimmer boy's thin jaw, coaxing valentine Bambi eyes to meet concerned hazel. "I _love_ you, bro . . . You can tell me _anything_. **_Anything_**. Got it?"

Barley's wily brows knit together at the sight of tears welling in Ian's gaze, threatening to spill onto his flushed cheeks within a moment's notice.

" _Ian_ . . . You're shivering, and you're burning up," the brawny man noted; voice tense with worry as he ran his large thumbs across his younger sibling's profound nose and sun-kissed cheekbones. "Are you _sick_? Do you want me to call mom?—"

"N- _no!_ " Ian yelped, soft hands attempting to force Barley's light grip from his jaw. "I-I'm _fine_! I just _really_ want to be _alone_ right now, _okay?!_ " he snapped, watching a shade of darkness envelop his elder brother's ruggedly handsome face.

Barley raised his hands in a show of surrender, rearing back a bit so as to create the illusion of distance. 

"What is _going on_ with you?" The bulky adventurer raised his voice, "Can you _please_ just tell me what is actually happening?—"

" _Just_ ** _get out_** _!_ " Ian snapped, jumping to his feet and thrusting a thin finger at his still-open bedroom door.

Midas-toned eyes followed the dramatic movement of Ian taking a stand, and it was there that Barley noticed the bulge in his younger sibling's jeans. He stared at it for a moment—brows raised in enlightenment—before Ian quickly jerked his (oversized) hoodie down to conceal the evidence with a tiny squeak.

For a moment, the two simply held each other's gaze, but Ian's trembling and rapidly rouging complexion eventually gave way to the tears he was so desperately trying to hold back.

"B- _Barley_ , I-I'm _really_ sorry! C-Can you just _leave_?!" the slender youth spat, breath trembling.

Tears of humiliation cascaded down his flushed cheeks, catching the golden glow of his desk lamp as they went; canary diamonds dripping from his marquise-cut chin.

Barley's heart ached.

Whatever his sibling was dealing with was _clearly_ eating at him. He couldn't handle seeing Ian like this. Instincts took over before his mind could catch up, and he quickly pulled the slighter boy into his lap.

“Can I _kiss_ you?”

The petite mage balked at this, a shuddered gasp his only response as panicked chocolate fluttered between pools of liquid flax.

“ _Please_ , Ian?” Barley asked again, imploring gaze carefully studying his brother’s until he received a nod of approval; pressing a barbed kiss against the delicate sweetness of Iandore’s lips.

Strong arms encircled Ian's lithe form—which tensed considerably—before melting into his elder brother's embrace. He couldn't help but relinquish a moan into the bigger man's kiss as a warm tongue entered his mouth, seemingly set on exploring the soft, wet hollow.

When Barley finally broke for air, he pulled back so as to study Ian's expression for any sign of disgust or hesitation.

" _Sorry_ ," he offered, his own cheeks and ears flushed a shade to match his younger sibling's. "This _okay?_ —"

Ian responded by crushing their lips together once more, winding wiry arms around Barley's sturdy neck in an attempt to reassure the Quest Master that _'this'_ was indeed _'okay'_. Tongues battled for some semblance of dominance for a few moments, but they both knew who would win. Ian's white-hot inexperience was no match for Barley, whose large hands were already pawing beneath the little fae’s sweater to unfasten yet _another_ of his structured button-ups.

Inch by silken inch, Ian's slight form was exposed to his big brother's prodding fingers, the two breaking their kiss long enough to discard the lissome youth’s oversized hoodie and pull the now fully-unbuttoned flannel from his flushed shoulders.

The brash adventurer pressed a large hand against Ian's smooth chest, halting their actions and taking a moment to admire his younger brother's comparably delicate frame. In the dim golden light, Barley drank in hints of lean muscle just beneath the soft skin of the smaller boy’s hairless periwinkle chest and torso; two pert nipples standing at attention just outside a thudding heartbeat.

The older man dared to peer up (sheepishly) at his brother's face, finding Ian's confection-toned eyes glazed over with lust. The faintest trace of tear stains were still visible, but had since given way to pleasure.

" _Wow_ ," Barley breathed, leaning in to kiss his sibling’s dappled cheeks, pulling away with a goofy grin.

"W- _What?"_ Ian whispered, lithe arms instinctively reaching to shield his bare chest from view.

" _Beautiful_ ," Barley purred, using his free hand to lift Ian's arms away from his body. "Don't be shy," the elder Lightfoot whispered, leaning in to take one of his junior’s nipples into his mouth, earning himself a gasp (which caused him to smile into his work).

Barley's tongue swirled, and teeth lightly nibbled at the hardened nub, testing the waters to see how much pressure he could get away with. But when Iandore mewled his approval—especially at the deepening bites—his elder understood that he had an appreciation for a bit of force and aggression.

Barley made a mental note of this to utilize at what would possibly be a ' _next time_ '. Currently, his only goal was to please his brother in the spirit of assisting him to relieve some of his stress. With this, he moved on to the other nipple, making sure to apply an even show of attention; suckling and biting (sometimes a bit too hard, he feared) for the reward of more satisfied whines from his brother.

At this point, his free hand moved between them to graze the profound bulge (and accompanying wet spot) at the front of Ian's skin-tight denim, sending the svelte magician bucking and whimpering in response.

And again, Barley couldn't help but grin.

"Why you gotta be so _freakin' cute?_ " he wondered aloud, watching as Ian's slender fingers flew down to unbutton and unzip the offending jeans, a sigh offered as the tightness of his member's confinements were loosened. He then wriggled in place awkwardly, managing to pull his denims down ever-so-slightly. " _Ah_ ," the gamer began, " _You know_ , you could always wear _looser jeans_ —"

"Sh-Shut up and kiss me," Ian's voice wavered, slim hands tilting his older brother's broad chin to press their lips together once again—with just as much passion, but more tenderly than before—sending Barley's mind swimming.

There was so much love and adoration in the junior Lightfoot's kiss. Iandore tasted of innocence, eagerness, and hunger; a flavor profile that was intoxicating to Barley.

The gentle brute trailed dense fingers down the thinness of Ian's torso, sending shivers through his younger sibling as he reached the waistband of Ian's briefs.

The anticipation of his throbbing length being so close to release caused Ian to pull away once again—a glistening string of saliva connecting the Lightfoot brothers' hungry mouths—as he attempted to free his hardness himself, only to find his attempts batted away by a strong hand.

Ian looked bewildered through the thickness of lust, brows knitted together as his elder placed his stubbled lips against the softness of his throat.

"I'm gonna make you cum _on my own time_ ," Barley grumbled, misaligned teeth grazing the soft flesh of his baby brother's pastel collar bone. "Isn't that _what you want?_ " he purred, tongue tracing upwards and onto the tense pulse of his sibling's slender neck.

"Y- _Yes_ . . ." Ian shuddered, squirming against the firmness of his brother's solid form. In doing so, he realized that there was an additional firmness upon which he was seated, his squirming motion earning him a little grunt from Barley. "D-Don't _you?_ "

The older man responded by carefully sinking his teeth into the pulse point of Ian's neck; just enough to create potential discomfort, but not quite enough to leave a mark. This earned him a strangled groan in response, sending vibrations through his teeth and into his mouth.

_'Yep, he's gonna like the rough stuff,'_ Barley noted—attempting to clear the thick glaze of lust in his golden-olive eyes before continuing. " _I_ can cum later . . . _Right now_ , 'tis all about _you_ , Sir Iandore," he purred, toothy grin and heavy lids skewing his typically cheerful face into something akin to predatory.

And Gods, did Ian love that look.

"Th-Then _do it!_ " the younger Lightfoot very nearly whined, grinding further into the teeth placed at his throat, triggering his elder to retract somewhat. "P- _Please?_ " he offered next, flush deepening at his own desperation; making sure to grind his backside purposefully against what he now knew to be Barley's manhood.

The quester rewarded his junior with a soft grunt; grin giving way to gritted teeth as he steadied his brother's hips. "Do _what?_ " he inquired hoarsely, voice not entirely his own at this point. His lips then trailed up to kiss the junction that connected Ian's ear to his jaw, and he could feel the little shiver it sent through his sibling. " _Tell me what you want,_ " he pressed, breathing it directly into the shell of Ian's ear.

"Make m-me _cum_ ," Ian quivered, unsure if he should lean into, or withdraw from Barley's stubbled lips upon his delicate ear.

"Make me cum,' _what?_ " the elder Lightfoot teased, knowing very well how sensitive an elf's ears were; as he licked and nibbled at the spade-shaped flourish, feeling the boy melt further into his arms. " _Try again_ ," he ordered, calloused fingers finally tugging the waistband of his younger brother's briefs.

At last releasing Ian's boyhood—fervently drooling precum—Barley was careful not to offer too much in the way of stimulation; instead opting to gently skate his heavy palm along the sensitive head, causing the brittle teen to buck and whimper.

Fine nails found their way to Barley's strong shoulders and dug in for a sense of stability, but Ian's mind was as good as gone. The feeling of his throbbing erection being set free was a relief to be sure, but the feeling of his brother's hand was pure bliss.

" _I-I-I—_ " Ian stammered, eloquence lost to the sweetness of pleasure.

"Use your _big boy_ words," Barley teased, voice thick with his own need as he let his fingers gently glide along the mage’s hardness.

Thumbing across the head of the smaller teen’s arousal to collect a few glimmering strands of precum, the elder Lightfoot leaned back to observe his handiwork; pressing his slickened thumb into Ian's delicate mouth.

The expression on Iandore’s face was more than Barley could bear.

A dazed look of arousal was accompanied by a second swell of tears—this time from raw need—as Ian hungrily slurped at Barley's thumb as though it were the bigger man's member. The angular wizard took this opportunity to release his pointed grip on his sibling’s shoulders, instead trailing his trembling hands down to smooth over silken waves of azure chest hair.

"M-Make me c-cum, _p-please?_ " Ian tried as soon as his brother's thumb was pulled away, golden-brown eyes watery and heavily lidded.

Barley managed to quirk a brow at this, large hand easily surrounding the entirety of his little brother's meager length, giving the entirety of it an ample squeeze. Ian desperately bucked into his grip, but as soon as he tried, it was taken away.

"Who is _'Please'?_ Are you gonna cum for _'Please'?_ " Barley teased, readjusting his firm grip on his baby brother's hardness. " _Try again._ "

Full brows furrowed, tears of frustration collecting at the outer corners of Ian’s glassy eyes.

"M-Make me c-cum, _B-Barley?_ " he tried again, bucking into his older sibling's firm grip only to find himself without stimulation once again. He whined crossly, lithe hands instinctively reaching down to pleasure himself only to find both of them grasped firmly within just one of Barley's. " _I-I don't—_ "

The large hand stabilizing Ian's back shifted the smaller boy's weight as Barley stood, easily lifting the young mage as he turned to lay him out on the bed, spindly legs dangling over the edge.

Releasing Ian's hands, Barley made quick (yet awkward) work of removing the young mage's jeans and vivid briefs.

The full sight of Iandore laid out before him, quivering with need and completely bare (save for a pair of brightly colored socks), made the gamer’s mouth water. Ian was a beautiful boy, and Barley was so honored he'd been given the opportunity to bear witness to said beauty.

"Who taught you to _ride a bike?_ " the older Lightfoot inquired, kneeling at the edge of the bed between Ian's legs, planting barbed kisses on his inner thighs.

Barley's strong arms nimbly lifted the delicate youth’s hips, pulling them forward to rest Ian's legs upon his broad shoulders. His warm tongue then found its place planted firmly against his little brother's (uncomfortably tight) scrotum, Ian raising his head to take in the sight of what was happening to him.

"Who taught you to _swim?_ " Barley continued, tongue gently kneading the fullness of his younger brother's balls; carefully avoiding the pulse of his hardness.

The sound Ian was making was indescribable—somewhere between a sob and a gurgle—as his hands attempted to touch his own throbbing boyhood, though he knew his efforts would be rebuffed.

And so they were.

" _Y-You_ ," he managed to choke, finding his hands held firmly at his sides by Barley's far larger ones. " _Please—_ "

"Who pushed you on the swing? Who told you bedtime stories? Who chased the monsters away?" Barley pressed, tongue gliding south a bit further, gently lapping at the small area between the young mage’s scrotum and his entrance. The sensation wasn't much, but he knew it would frustrate Ian. " _Who does that for you?_ "

Realization lit Ian's pleasure-fogged mind, as he came to understand what Barley was looking for.

"D- _Daddy does,_ " he practically sobbed, hips desperately bucking against thin air, little threads of precum slinging onto his abdomen in turn. " ** _Daddy_** _does!_ " he tried again more forcefully, tears of frustration cascading down the sides of his face, pooling just-inside the shells of his delicate ears.

Barley grinned as his tongue darted out to taste the sour-sweetness of his baby brother's orifice. The soft pucker twitching against his tongue, he circled it for a moment to consider the flavor.

"Now, _ask me again,_ " he commanded, running his tongue from the junior's virginity to his scrotum, releasing one of the boy's hands to take Ian's engorged member into his warm fist once again.

"Make m-me _cum_ , D- _Daddy!_ " Ian cried, bucking his hips into the dry warmth of his big brother's calloused hand. " _P-Please!_ Please m- _make me cum, Daddy,_ " he begged, and not a moment sooner did he feel a warm, wet heat replace the dry callousness of Barley's palm. Snapping his head up to view the source of his pleasure, he found his sibling’s mouth hungrily devouring his boyhood. " _I-I c-can-n't_ ," he tried, already feeling his orgasm approaching.

Slurping, suckling, and tongue swirling; Barley lifted off his brother's boyhood with an audible 'pop'.

"You wanna _cum_ for me?" he asked, drool trailing down his jaw from the corner of his shit-eating grin. His hands—no longer concerned with holding Ian's away from his sex—fumbled to release his own engorged member from the fly of his boxers.

One hand steadied on his own hardness, and the other steadied on Ian's; who felt as though his entire body must be stained with rose at this point.

He felt so hot, and so exposed, and so desperate, and so ashamed—and he loved every minute of it.

How many nights had he pleasured himself, where the starring role in his recurring fantasy was his elder brother? He couldn't think straight anymore. He could practically see his heart hammering through his own chest.

He would give Barley anything and everything.

"I-I wanna cum f-for _you_ , Daddy," he whimpered, watching as his hardness was one again engulfed by his brother's hungry mouth.

He felt his eyes roll back, then felt them cross; features and limbs do things he knew they shouldn't be able to. Soft hands grasped at the uneven locks adorning the Quest Master’s unkempt hair, usually half-hidden away beneath a beanie. He found himself bucking into his brother's hot, slick mouth with everything he had; toes curling and lips no longer mindful of the things they were saying, or how loudly they were saying them.

When he lifted his head to gaze down—hoping to catch his brother's honeyed gaze—his wishes were met in kind.

The gleam in Barley's eyes was something Ian had never witnessed in him before . . . He wasn't sure how to place it. It frightened him—as many things concerning his brother tended to—but it also pushed him over the edge. " _B-Barley! I-I—_ "

Iandore wasn’t afforded the time to articulate the rest of his warning, before he was pouring himself into his elder sibling’s eagerly awaiting lips. Ribbon after ribbon of his salty-sweet climax burst into Barley's mouth—filling it up once, then twice—every precious pearl swallowed down gluttonously.

" _Good boy,_ " the older Lightfoot purred, licking his lips before placing a few tender kisses on the wizard’s slender thighs.

Barley's own release was swiftly approaching, and he made a hasty decision to take a stand—straddling his brother's willowy ribs—holding the girth of his manhood right above Ian's sweat-soaked, euphoric face.

A toughened thumb reached out, parting the petite youth’s quivering lips to hook his lower jaw; coaxing open his small, sensual mouth.

" _Say 'ah',_ " Barley ordered, brows pinched in adoration as he watched his younger sibling's expression shift from fatigue, to licentious wonder at the thickness of his cock. " _Tongue out,_ " he instructed, sliding his thumb from Ian's mouth to instead hold the boy's head steady.

The quester growled low in his throat as his orgasm racked his solid body, thick ropes of seed shooting forth to glaze his brother's bewildered face; mouth held open, tongue hanging loosely, just as he'd been instructed.

The sturdy man struggled to remain balanced, doubling over and releasing his hold on Ian's head to catch himself.

For a moment, amber eyes simply admired his handiwork; gaze and temperament softening considerably from his earlier, sexually charged aggression. The creamy iridescence of his release, against the freckles, sweat, and rosy flush of his younger sibling's afterglow was truly a sight to behold.

" _So gorgeous,_ " he purred, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on Ian's languid smile, tasting himself in the process.

He wasn't sure if he enjoyed the way he tasted. Bitter, when contrasted with his little brother's sweetness. But in the moment—displeasure was lost to delight—transformed by Ian’s lips.

"Our shower awaits, young mage," he grinned, leaning in for a second fleeting kiss before pulling the well-spent youth into his arms, carrying him into the bathroom.

For the first time in weeks, Iandore felt secure and content. And be it ephemeral or enduring, he was thankful for this precarious moment of bliss.

" _Sleepy_ ," he muttered, laying his weight against his elder’s strong (slightly sweaty) chest. " _Sorry for everything,_ _"_ he murmured next as he was guided into a seated position upon the edge of the tub. " _Love you_ , Barley . . . We’re gonna figure this out . . . _Right_?"

" _Hey_ ," Barley began, kneeling before his junior; a warm palm caressing his mage’s bemused face, " _I love you, too,_ Ian."

He smiled then—tender and sincere—and as sunset intertwined with dusk, he made his vow: " _Forever_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope everyone enjoyed this! If you didn't, I'm always open to constructive criticism.


End file.
